Annabelle's Story

At approximately 5.30pm on Wednesday April 2, a sonographer had the unpleasant job of telling me after she scanned my abdomen for several minutes, that my precious baby girl was no longer alive.

For as long as I live I will never forget that moment. As she uttered the words 'I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you this...' while I gazed on at the image of my little girl's chest on the monitor is something that will be with me until I take my last breath.

I knew the minute I saw her chest the heart was no longer beating. Even though I could see the proof it didn't make hearing it any less painful or easier.  The walls seemed to start moving closer trying to squeeze out any ounce of life I had left in me.  I was there in those ultrasound offices alone because there was no need for hubby to come along.  This was simply a fun scan.  I had my official diagnostic scan the Friday before - 5 days earlier- and everything was fine.  She was baby #3 and we had never had any issues so me in my little bubble of happiness and naivety went off alone.

I somehow managed to make a phone call I never expected to make which was to hubby to tell him of the news.  His loss for words followed by tears summed it up for me.  This was real.  It wasn't a horrible dream.  My baby was dead.  The child I had planned for and wanted was gone.  

I made it home through a thick fog of shock and sadness. The home I had made with my husband and two gorgeous boys somehow didn't feel the same as I crossed the threshold.  The rooms seemed darker and I knew this was only the beginning of my journey.

The hours passed as a blur. The flood gates of my brain had been opened and every thought came rushing in. Somehow that evening I managed to get a few hours sleep between the never ending thoughts circling in my mind. The very next morning after the school and kindy drop off hubby and I headed to the hospital.

The only thought I can clearly remember having on that trip was that I was going to have to birth my dead baby. The idea of birth is not normally a negative thing. It brings with it joy, hope and the promise of new life, but for me those things were now gone.

Not only was I going to be mourning the loss of my little girl but the loss of all those hopes and dreams myself and my husband had for her. How do you say goodbye before saying hello? This is something no parent should have to do and yet I have learned I am not the only mother who has had to do this. I wish I could say I will be the last but I know I wont.

Annabelle Grace Jackson was born on April 4, 2014 at 4.38pm at 20 weeks. She was absolutely perfect, all 202grams. The moment she was born I felt an immense sense of peace and calm come over me. It was as if the story was complete. There was an ending and I did what I was supposed to do; birth my daughter.

From the moment Annabelle was born she didn't leave our arms. We only let her go for all of five minutes for mandatory tests. We knew we had to make as many memories as we could with our little girl as this would be the last time we would see her. As each second ticked by my husband and I started to notice each and everyone of her features. She had the longest little legs and a jaw line just like her Daddy and her big brothers. (I now know 100% that I basically clone my husband in both male and female form – what a lucky guy!).

I had five hours with my little girl. I held her, I told her about her brothers and her family. I told her how much Mummy & Daddy loved her and how much she was wanted. I promised to bake her a very girly birthday cake with pink unicorns every year and that she would never ever be forgotten.

At approximately 9.45pm on April 4 I said my last good-bye to Annabelle. Hubby and I kissed her little head and gave her to our amazing midwife. We then grabbed our bags and started the worst walk of my life. Hand in hand we left the birth suite that had been home for nearly thirty six hours and our baby. We left our baby.

Even with my husband holding my hand and talking to me as we made the journey out of the hospital I felt alone. I was numb and all I had to hold was a teddy bear I had been given. I should have been holding my little girl; I should have been posting pictures all over Facebook and announcing her arrival with all the flair of Mardi Gras; I shouldn't have been there at all; I shouldn't be here now writing this but my bubble of naviety has now burst and I am here.

I am here and I am on this journey. My journey. It has only been six weeks and sometimes it feels much much longer and others it seems as if it has only been seconds. Some days are easy and some feel as if I am trapped in a loss necklace unable to untangle myself from the strand of sadness next to me.

Annabelle has given me many things since she arrived sleeping. She has taught me just how important life is and how each person has a story and we cannot judge. My heart yearns for her to still be growing inside of me but I know this is no longer my reality. My story now includes stillbirth and this chapter has only just started.

My name is Kirsten and I am on the journey of life after stillbirth. I have three gorgeous children and I am their mother. I am strong. I am passionate. I am determined. I will get up each day and be present in the moment; for myself, for my family and most importantly for Annabelle.